


Out of reach

by mrsshuckface



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Desert Island, F/M, Inspired by a Movie, Minor Character Death, Set after Season 4, Side relationship: Scira, Side relationship: Stydia, Thailand, Vacation, more characters to be introduced on later parts, the beach, the pack never met deucalion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 08:39:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5915434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsshuckface/pseuds/mrsshuckface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a great idea, flying to Thailand together for some well deserved R and R after the strain the pack went through because of the dead pool. What Malia realizes soon is that it was in fact a horrible idea, letting Stiles be in charge of renting a boat for a week. Especially when the pack finds themselves stranded in the middle of the ocean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of reach

> _Lay down here beside me in the shallow water  
>  Beside me where the sun is shining on us still_
> 
> _Cher Lloyd - Sirens_
> 
>  

Malia is lying on the mattress in the back of the boat, soaking up the heat from the sun, letting it warm her skin. She can almost feel the skin getting more tan by the minute. She has to give it to Stiles: looks like the boat was a pretty good deal after all. It was so cheap that everyone had immediately suspected there being a major flaw somewhere. The boat had got them this far out without a hitch anyway. 

She watches the others through her sunglasses lazily. Liam and Mason are pushing each other off from the front of the boat, laughing. When they finally fall into the water they just stay there, floating beside the boat, enjoying the warm water for a while before climbing up the ladders tossed over the side. Kira and Scott are sleeping on the other side of the mattress, arms wrapped around each other. Malia can see sweat glistening in the places where skin touches skin and can already tell that the couple will be very uncomfortable when they wake up. She decides to wake them up, but just not yet. Let them have their moment of peace.

Stiles and Lydia are arguing about the boat as far as Malia can tell. Her lips curve into a knowing smile as she watches the two. Everyone knows Stiles has a huge crush on Lydia but only a few people know Lydia feels the same way about Stiles. It’s very cute actually, the way they seem to argue all the time but Malia sees her trying to stifle a smile as Stiles waves his hands around in argument and touches Lydia’s hand briefly.

With a content sigh she sits up and runs a hand over the brown skin on her shoulders, admiring the outcome. She has never had a tan like this and in her mind she’s thanking her dad for helping her pay for this trip to Thailand with the pack. After the Benefactor and all the assassins the Dead Pool created, they all were in desperate need of a vacation and Stiles had come up with the idea of traveling to Thailand for two weeks together. Derek had graciously donated Scott a nice amount of Peter’s money, telling his uncle the money was gone.

“It’s getting kinda late. Should we start heading back?” Malia asks everyone after waking up Scott and Kira. They groan from the discomfort and jump into the water to rinse themselves clean from all the sweat.

“Yeah, I wanna try that restaurant we saw yesterday by the beach,” Stiles rubs his hands together excitedly.

“If you ask them if they serve curly fries, I will strangle you with your own board shorts,” Lydia snaps and flips her hair over her shoulder. She notices Malia looking at her with a teasing smile on her lips and she grins back at her, knowing her secret is safe with Malia. The only other people who know about Lydia’s infatuation with Stiles are Kira, obviously, and Mason, who had walked in on them discussing the matter. The girls had threatened to drown him in the next toilet, or as usual in Thailand, a nice hole in the floor with footprints painted in front of it. Mason had happily agreed to keep his mouth shut and walked away, gagging at the thought of getting dipped head first in a hole filled with human feces.

“As long as you don’t scream at me I can take it. What the hell is wrong with curly fries anyway?” Stiles snaps at Lydia and makes his way back inside to start up the boat. Well, the boat could actually be called a small yacht, as it’s huge, with separate sleeping cabins below the deck and a small kitchen and a steering cabin on the deck level. It was definitely a bargain.

There’s the sound of the engine starting up and just as Stiles walks outside to make sure everyone is ready for the trip back, the engine splutters to a stop. A shocked silence surrounds the pack, everyone’s eyes zeroing in on Stiles who laughs awkwardly.

“I’m sure it’s just a minor problem, I’ll just start it up again,” he mutters as he walks back inside. When a banging sound is audible from the inside, Lydia groans.

“I told him this thing wouldn’t get us a mile out,” she snaps and walks inside to check what Stiles is doing.

“Well it got us 10 miles out so no complaining!” Stiles’ voice carries outside, sounding muffled. Malia figures he’s checking the engine, trying to figure out what the problem is.

“ _10 miles in the middle of the damn ocean, Stiles!!_ ”

“This can’t be happening,” Kira whines, wrapping herself in a towel. She sinks back down to the warm mattress, followed by Malia who can’t believe she was just praising Stiles for renting this particular boat instead of a smaller one but one that would actually work. Now she’s getting very annoyed, this is not how she planned on spending her first vacation outside the States.

Scott wanders inside with Liam and Mason and the banging sounds continue, every once and again stopping long enough for Scott to try the ignition only to get complete silence. Lydia walks out after a moment, huffing to herself.

“I can’t believe we’re stuck in the middle of the ocean. The radio is dead too,” Lydia scoffs, slumping down to sit with the other two girls. Malia and Kira glance at each other, eyes widening as they realize their situation.

Stuck in the middle of the ocean, 20 miles from the coast and they can’t even call for help because the radio is dead.

Good job, Stiles.

Malia immediately starts scanning the horizon for any sign of boats or anything that could get them out of this situation. The only thing she sees is an island not too far away but definitely way too far for them to swim there. She’s not too enthusiastic about the idea of swimming since she never really had time to learn how to swim properly in human form.

Time passes and the darker it gets, the more everyone is starting to panic. Kira tucks her legs tightly against herself and buries her head between her knees, groaning softly. Scott picks that moment to walk out, running a hand through his hair.

“Looks like we’re stuck. That engine looks so busted I doubt all the duct tape in the world could fix that thing,” he sighs, sitting down beside Kira and pulling her against his side. “Any suggestions what we should do now?”

“There’s an island about half a mile that way,” Malia points towards the island, causing Scott’s head to snap around and look for it. He scans the waters and gets up abruptly.

“The current will take us pretty close if we lift the anchor,” he mutters and walks in to talk to the other boys. Soon all four of them are moving hurriedly from one place to another, trying to find anything that they can use to try and row the boat.

They manage to find a pair of oars to everyone’s surprise and after lifting the anchor they start rowing frantically towards the island, the current being surprisingly helpful. It still takes them a better part of an hour to get near enough but when they do, Scott and Liam jump out and swim ashore, pulling the boat after them as Stiles and Mason row as hard as they can.

Malia jumps off the side of the boat, ending up waist deep in warm water and with Kira, Scott and Liam she helps pull the boat as high up on the shore as possible. Stiles throws a rope to them, one that’s long enough to tie the boat to a palm tree. The boat drifting away would be just their luck.

Scott and Liam sink down against the palm tree, gasping for breath after the hard task of getting the boat safely tied up. Malia looks around, trying to find any signs of life but finds nothing. It’s too dark now to see anything anyway, even with her coyote eyes.

“Is everyone okay?” Scott pants, eyes flashing red for a brief moment before turning back to the usual brown. They’re all shocked but other than that they’re fine. “We have enough food and water in the boat to last us a while and we can sleep in the cabins. Tomorrow we can see if there’s something we can do to the engine and the radio, but we need rest first. Let’s tuck in.”

* * *

The beds in the cabins were actually very comfortable. Scott and Kira had taken the smaller cabin while Mason and Liam had occupied the couch in the lounge area in the steering cabin above deck. That had left Malia in the bigger cabin with Stiles and Lydia. It would’ve been fine if the two hadn’t bickered all night about which one had the worse pillow. Luckily in the early morning Stiles had rolled over to Lydia’s side and they had ended up cuddling the rest of the night, _silently_. Which is all Malia cares about.

As the sun rises, the boat gets unbearably hot and moist. Kira is the first one to get up, stumbling upstairs to Liam and Mason, groaning as she pulls her shirt off from her stomach. The joys of sleeping with a hot blooded werewolf. Scott isn’t far behind her, looking just as uncomfortable as his girlfriend.

Malia revels in the silence and space she finally has from Stiles and Lydia for a moment longer but gets up after a while, feeling too anxious to sleep. She can already tell how uncomfortable it will be to be around Stiles now. He always smells like anxiety but they’re stranded on an island in the middle of the ocean: his anxiety is going to reach a record high today, especially seeing as he’s the one who rented the boat in the first place.

She climbs up to the steering cabin and with each step the tension gets harder to deal with. It puts her on edge even before she reaches the top of the stairs and sees the worried look on Scott’s face.

“Nothing?” she asks him, even though she already knows the answer. Of course there’s nothing.

“No. Radio doesn’t work, I can’t start up the motor. Is Stiles awake yet?” Scott asks, peeking down and seeing Stiles’ arms wrapped around Lydia. ”Stiles, can you come up?”

Always the gentleman.

Stiles groans downstairs and after a while he climbs up, face flushing crimson as he sees the grin on Scott’s face.

“Shut up, Scott,” he mumbles and starts testing the ignition, getting no response from the engine whatsoever. “Shit. We’re fucked.”

Malia stops listening at that point and walks outside, taking in the surroundings. There’s nothing but clear water as far as the eye can see. The island looks unvacated, not a trace of life anywhere. Well, except the sound of wildlife.

Malia has a sudden urge to run into the jungle and seek out a bird or even something bigger. Her animal instincts are still strong and if she’s being completely honest with herself, she’d rather face the jungle alone than stay in this boat with all the anxiety choking the life out of her. It’s putting her under a huge strain.

Stiles and Scott start checking the engine, trying to figure out what’s wrong and even from above the deck Malia can tell the situation is looking worse by the second: the stress level is rising to extreme heights the longer Stiles bangs on the engine.

The day turns to afternoon as Stiles still works the engine. Malia senses his desperation as he finally comes out. Grease streaks covering his face he shakes his head in defeat.

“Guys, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with the engine.” It takes a lot out of him to admit his defeat, Malia knows this but apologies aren’t getting them off this damn island.

Stiles slumps down on the warm sand, wringing his hands together in frustration. Scott claps a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly.

“Buddy, no one’s blaming you. You couldn’t have know this would happen. It’s just bad luck. Right, guys?” he glances around, urging everyone else to offer comfort to Stiles as well. Everyone else does, except Malia who stays silent. Scott raises his eyebrows in question.

“Well, it kind of _is_ Stiles’ fault. He should’ve known there was something wrong with the boat because it was so cheap,” she says honestly, earning a scolding glare from Lydia. Stiles looks at her, hurt apparent in his eyes. Malia does feel bad for him but she’s not one to lie so others would feel better about themselves.

“Thanks so much, Malia,” he huffs. “I suppose you would’ve done a better job, then? I’ll keep this in mind the next time we’re thinking about renting a boat.”

“Oh, really, Stiles? Well, thanks to you there most likely won’t even be a next time because we’ll all starve on this God forsaken island!” Malia snaps and jumps up to her feet from the warm sand, marching towards the wood line.

“Malia!” Scott shouts after her but she’s too mad to stop. The last thing she’s going to do is indulge anyone by saying Stiles didn’t make a mistake. It might very well cost them their lives.

To her surprise Scott runs after her and falls into step beside her easily enough, despite her fast pace. She glances at him and he smiles apologetically.

“I know it’s hard for you, being around that much tension,” he explains, looking around. Malia slows down, already feeling more at ease now that she’s away from the others. 

“There’s just so much of it. I’m not used to that.”

“I know. It’s okay,” he smiles and puts a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. “Now come on, let’s explore a bit. See if we can find something useful.”

They walk around for an hour, picking up things like fruit and big leaves, something they might have a use for back at the beach. The terrain gets rougher the deeper they walk into the jungle and they would have their arms and legs full of bloody scratches if they didn’t heal as soon as they appear. Suddenly there’s a break in the thick underbrush and Malia and Scott find themselves on the edge of a river.

“Should we follow this?” Malia asks, glancing at Scott. He looks up and down the river, trying to decide which way would be better. His head snaps back to Malia’s direction, eyes flashing crimson.

“Did you hear that?” he asks, clearly straining to hear something. Malia shakes her head, looking at the same direction, trying to see any sign of life. Then she hears it too.

_A shout._

She takes off running on the side of the river, dropping everything she has collected from the jungle. Scott passes her and runs just ahead of her, taking the position of the alpha he is. They don’t get too far when they hear shouts again, this time from multiple people. Scott slows down and waves at Malia to stay behind him as they hide behind a thick bush, watching the sight before them.

They see a clearing in the middle of the jungle and a big house just on the edge of the clearing, half hidden by the trees. In the middle of the clearing there’s a pole and a group of people around it. As Malia watches, there’s a break in the crowd and she catches a glimpse of an older man looking down on a young guy who’s lying on the ground, clearly hurt.

“How many times have I told you not to steal from me, Donovan?” a man asks, walking around the guy who’s name Malia assumes to be Donovan. The man has a cane in his hand, one that blind people use to help them navigate their surroundings. In fact the more Malia watches him the more she’s convinced he actually is blind: he never seems to really look at Donovan.

Donovan whimpers, spitting blood to the ground.

“I’m sorry, Deucalion! Please, just give me another chance, I swear I’ll never do it again! _Please!_ ” He crawls to Deucalion’s feet, causing Deucalion to kick him in the face.

“You don’t get second chances with me,” he tells him, sounding calm and menacing. He then addresses the rest of the group: “Let this be a lesson to all of you. You betray me, betray this pack… You will be severely punished.”

Donovan groans, face down in the ground but doesn’t make an effort to get up. His body starts shaking and Malia can tell he’s crying. Accepting his fate, probably.

“Who the fuck are you?” a voice speaks behind Malia and Scott, causing them to jump from shock and turn around to face the speaker. Scott’s arm flies in front of Malia, pulling her closer against him, protecting her from the new-found threat. She doesn’t have to see his eyes to know they’re glowing crimson.

The speaker is a guy, no older than them, wearing a black t-shirt and board shorts. His hair is wet and glistens in the sunlight while he runs a hand through it. There’s an air of darkness surrounding him, most likely because of the chains he’s carrying on his shoulder.

His eyes scan them up and down and a frown wrinkles his forehead. Malia notices him paying closer attention to her than Scott and it gives her a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Theo?” Scott asks, voice full of disbelief. The stranger’s eyes focus on Scott then, confusion flashing across his face for only a second before recognition washes it away. 

“Scott?” he asks, bewildered. Malia’s eyes flash from Scott to Theo and back at Scott again but she doesn’t dare to ask where they know each other: Theo seems to be listening intently to the sound of people approaching them. “You can’t be here, they’ll kill you.” 

“Theo? Is everything alright?” Deucalion’s voice carries over to them and Theo’s eyes flash golden.

“ Leave. Just go. _Run.”_ he hisses and steps out of their way, starting to walk to his own pack. Scott grabs Malia’s hand and pulls her along as he takes off to the direction they came from.

The sound of Donovan screaming soon carries over to them, despite the density of the jungle. A sickening feeling churns in Malia’s stomach as she runs, not being able to shut the sounds out.

Donovan’s scream is suddenly cut off and as Scott and Malia get closer to the edge of the jungle, Malia hears another scream in the silence, one she’s grown to know as well as she knows her own voice:

Lydia’s.


End file.
